CHAPTER 41
Jaxon
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The steady, rhythmic sound of the heart monitor pierced through the haze of my consciousness like a drill boring into my skull, dragging me from the depths of a dreamless sleep I hadn't wanted to leave.
The noise cut through the fog like a knife, making my face scrunch up in discomfort.
I desperately wanted someone to turn that damn thing off.
I flexed my body experimentally, testing the movement of limbs that felt like they belonged to someone else. Stiff, heavy, uncooperative. The slight shift sent a sharp spike of pain through my side, making me suck in a breath and wonder what had happened.
The movement must have caught Anna's attention because suddenly I felt her hand tighten around mine, warm, familiar and grounding. I hadn't even realized she was holding my hand until that moment.
"Jax? Are you awake?" Her voice was soft, gentle, close enough that I knew she was leaning toward me.
I kept my eyes closed against what I could sense was a bright, sterile light beyond my eyelids. My throat was dry, so dry it felt like I'd swallowed sand. I swallowed painfully, licked my chapped lips, and tried to speak.
"What happened?" My voice came out rough and raspy, barely recognizable as my own. Why can't I remember? Where am I?
Slowly, I forced my eyes open, immediately squinting against the harsh whiteness surrounding me. Hospital. I was in a hospital. The smell hit me next, antiseptic, cleaning chemicals, and that distinct scent all hospitals shared.
As my vision adjusted, my gaze found Anna's face, and my heart clenched painfully in my chest. Jesus Christ.
Bruises marred her delicate features. Dark purple and yellow marks stood out starkly against her pale skin. Bandages wrapped around her arms, white against the mottled colors of healing injuries beneath. A medical ID bracelet circled her wrist.
And then it all came flooding back. Daniel. The cabin. The fight. The knife. Anna. He had Anna. He was killing her.
"Daniel stabbed you," Anna said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking too loudly might shatter something fragile between us. "The blade hit your liver. They had to operate to close the wound and stop the bleeding."
The realization settled deep in my bones. My liver. That explained why everything hurt like hell.
Her words carried the weight of everything we'd survived, but there was something else in her eyes—relief. Profound relief that we were both still alive, still together, still here.
Anna reached out with her free hand and ran her fingers through my hair, the simple gesture filled with so much love and tenderness it made my throat tighten.
Her fingertips grazed the side of my face, and I winced slightly.
There was a bruise there too. I could feel it now.
I remembered it was from his elbow, when he got that opening to stab me.
Anna leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead, her lips soft and warm against my skin. I breathed in her scent; hospital soap mixed with something uniquely her and felt something in my chest settle. She's okay. She's alive. We both made it.
I lifted my hand, ignoring the pull and tug of the IV line taped to my arm, and traced the outline of the bruise on Anna's cheek with my fingertips before moving down to the bruises that wrapped around her neck.
My heart ached at the thought of the pain she'd endured, at what Daniel had done to her before I'd gotten there. I should’ve been faster.
With a gentle tug, I pulled her closer, needing to feel her lips on mine, needing the confirmation that this was real. Our lips met in a kiss that was tender despite everything. Careful of our injuries but no less meaningful.
When we pulled apart, I looked into her eyes and made her a promise. "He'll never hurt you again." Never. I'll make damn sure of it.
Anna chuckled softly as she pulled back, reaching for a tray beside the bed that held a cup with a straw. "No, he won't. You killed him."
The words should have hit me harder. I'd taken a life, but all I felt was grim satisfaction. There was no judgment in Anna's voice, only a quiet finality. A recognition that the nightmare was finally over.
With gentle hands, Anna slipped her arm beneath my head, helping me sit up just enough to take a sip of water. The movement sent pain radiating through my side, and I had to grit my teeth against it.
"Drink slowly," she cautioned, holding the straw to my lips.
The cool liquid soothed my parched throat like nothing else could. I took several small sips before she carefully lowered my head back to the pillows. Even that small effort left me exhausted.
"I wish it wasn't so quick for him," I admitted, my hands clenching into fists at my sides.
The anger I hadn't been lucid enough to feel before now rose to the surface, hot and bitter.
"I wish I could've prolonged his suffering for touching you.
" I felt a burning urge to have made him pay, to have made him hurt the way he hurt her.
Anna shook her head, her fingers gently uncurling my fists and lacing her own through mine.
She traced the lines of my knuckles with her thumb, her touch soothing despite the violence of my thoughts.
I knew what she was communicating: she didn't want to dwell on it, didn't want to give him any more power.
And she was right. Daniel was dead. Anna was safe. That had to be enough.
A knock at the door interrupted the moment, and we both looked up to see Connor stepping into the room, two steaming cups of coffee in his hands.
He offered one to Anna, who took it gratefully, wrapping both hands around it like she needed the warmth before settling into a chair on the opposite side of my bed.
Connor took a sip of his coffee and looked at me with a mixture of concern and relief so genuine it made me uncomfortable. "How are you feeling, man?"
I managed what I hoped was a smile, though it probably looked more like a grimace. "Like I've been stabbed," I joked, trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere. A deflection, because if we didn't joke about it, we'd have to actually talk about it.
Connor chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, that's to be expected. You gave us quite a scare, you know. I'm just glad you're going to be okay."
Anna nodded in agreement, her hand never leaving mine. "We both are. I don't know what I would've done if…" She trailed off, unable to finish the thought.
I squeezed her hand, a silent reassurance that I was still here, that I wasn't going anywhere. "I'm sorry for worrying you both. I just couldn't let him hurt Anna. I had to do something." I had to save her. Nothing else mattered.
Connor leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his expression serious. "You did what you had to do, Jax. No one's blaming you for that. In fact, the sheriff said it was a clear case of self-defense. You saved Anna's life."
Before I could respond, there was another knock at the door, and a doctor in a white coat entered the room, clipboard in hand.
"Mr. Mercer, it's good to see you awake," he said with a warm smile that seemed too bright for how I felt. "I'm Dr. Stevens, the surgeon who operated on you."
I nodded, my grip on Anna's hand tightening slightly. "How bad was it?"
Dr. Stevens flipped through the pages on his clipboard, his eyes scanning the notes with the practiced efficiency of someone who'd done this a thousand times.
"The knife wound was deep and caused significant damage to your liver.
We had to perform emergency surgery to repair it and stop the bleeding.
You lost a lot of blood, but thankfully, we were able to stabilize you. "
Anna's hand trembled in mine, her face paling at the doctor's words. The reality of how close she'd come to losing me was hitting her all over again. I rubbed my thumb over the back of her hand, trying to offer comfort, even though I was the one in the hospital bed.
"So, what's the recovery time looking like?" Connor asked, always practical, always thinking ahead.
Dr. Stevens looked up from his notes, his expression serious but not grim.
"You'll need to stay in the hospital for a few more days so we can monitor your progress and make sure there are no complications.
After that, you'll be discharged, but you'll need to take it easy for several weeks.
No heavy lifting, no strenuous activity. Your body needs time to heal."
Weeks. Great.
I nodded, taking in the information even though part of me wanted to argue that I'd be fine, that I could push through it. But the pain in my side was a pretty effective reminder that I was, in fact, not fine. "And the pain? When will that start to subside?"
"We'll manage your pain with medication, which we'll gradually reduce as you heal," Dr. Stevens explained. "You may experience discomfort and soreness for a while, but it should improve with each passing day."
Anna spoke up, her voice soft but steady with determination I recognized all too well. "I'll be there to help him every step of the way. Whatever he needs, I'll make sure he has it."
Something warm settled in my chest at her words, pushing back against the pain and exhaustion. I wasn't alone in this. I had Anna. I had Connor. I had people who gave a damn.
Dr. Stevens smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "That's good to hear. Having a strong support system is crucial to recovery. I have no doubt that with your help, Mr. Mercer will be back on his feet in no time."
Connor clapped me on the shoulder, carefully mindful of my injuries, and grinned. "You hear that, Jax? You've got a whole team behind you. We'll make sure you don't overdo it."
I internally grumbled that I had a whole team of people telling me what I can't do, but despite that, I couldn't help but laugh, the sound filling the room and lifting some of the somber weight that had been hanging there.
"I don't think I have a choice in the matter.
Between you two and the doc here, I think I'm in good hands. "
And I was. For the first time in a long time, maybe ever, I had people who cared about me. People who'd fight for me. People who'd help me heal.
Anna squeezed my hand, and I squeezed back. We made it.